The end
by Filia Venatoris
Summary: How the company broke apart after Robin died. Enjoy and please review. Thanks to "I am silently correcting your grammar" for beta-reading


**The end**

(Right after 'The greatest enemy')

Right after that horrible day when Robin died, everything went wrong. The other outlaws stubbornly clung to life, but nothing seemed to go right. It was as if Herne had taken away his protection and his blessing the moment Robin had died. Not a single raid was successful. More than once they barely managed to get away with their lives. They hadn't seen their mysterious rescuer since the flaming arrow ceremony they had held for Robin.

Since the ceremony Marion had retreated into herself more and more. It seemed as if she had used all the strenght left in her to say goodbye. Now there was nothing left.

She didn't react to anything anymore. Apathetically, she sat in the camp, holding on tightly to Albion. When they talked to her it took her a few moments to come back to reality. During the nights she cried as if her heart were breaking once more. She refused to eat. She refused to leave the camp.

Tuck stayed with her most of the time. He was highly worried about his little flower.

One evening, the outlaws sat around the fire in the camp. Deep inside their hearts they knew that it was over, that there was no way they could go on like this. Nobody wanted to think about it.

The next morning Marion spoke for the first time in several days.

The camp was almost empty. John, Will and Much had gone to the London road in hope of a raid. Nasir had taken his weapons early in the morning and had vanished. Only Tuck stayed with Marion.

She stared into empty space and said: "He told me to go on and keep everything alive."

She looked Tuck in the eyes. "But I can't, Tuck. I can't." She started to cry again.

It was then that Tuck made a decision. "Come on, little flower, let's go."

"Where to?"

"I'll take you home to your father," said Tuck gently.

"Home…," Marion repeated. She let Tuck lay her cloak around her shoulders. Together they went to Leaford. They took nothing with them – nothing except Albion.

X X X

Around midday the monk and the young woman reached Leaford Grange. The people working in the courtyard stood still, staring at them. A lad ran to get the lord of the manor.

Sir Richard met them at the main door to the keep.

"Tuck," he greeted the monk shortly. Then he looked at his daughter. She looked terrible. She was thin and pale; her face was dirty, her hair unkempt. There were tears in her eyes.

"Marion, my child," he said gently, spreading his arms.

"Father," she whispered, letting herself be embraced.

Sir Richard asked them in. Inside Tuck explained that he had brought Marion home to stay. She couldn't stay in Sherwood – not without Robin. Tuck had seen what the others refused to see: that their company would break apart. In this case Marion would be safest at home. The only problem was that Marion was an outlaw.

Sir Richard considered. "The king is always in need of money for his wars. He might be willing to sell a pardon," he said slowly.

"I don't want that," said Marion quietly, "that will cost you too much. I'm not worth it."

Sir Richard patted her hand, completely ignoring what she had said. "What will you do now, Tuck?" he asked.

Tuck just shrugged. Then he got up. Time to go. He looked at Marion. "Farewell, little flower," he said in a thick voice. He hugged Marion tightly.

"Farewell, Tuck," she answered, "greet the others. They won't understand."

X X X

When Tuck returned to the camp the others were already there. Much asked where Marion was. Tuck told them.

Such a quarrel the outlaws had never seen before. In the beginning John and Will shouted at Tuck, and then John and Will shouted at each other. Much tried clumsily to mediate. Will, who wasn't the most patient man at the best of times and who always worked through his sadness with fits of rage, finally lifted a hand to slap Much. Much ducked, raising his arms to avoid the punch.

That was when Little John went for Scarlet's throat. Nasir and Tuck threw themselves between the fighters.

Will cursed, storming away to his blankets. John shouted curses at him.

Much sat down, staring unhappily into the fire. Tuck also sat down, breathing heavily, trying to comfort Much, but Much didn't want to be comforted.

The next morning Scarlet and Nasir were gone.

John, Tuck and Much went out in search of them, but couldn't find anybody. When they reached Wickham, Edward told them that Nasir had been there earlier, changing his leather clothes into the rough peasant's tunic, leaving his weapons behind. "He said he wouldn't need them any more," said Edward. He hadn't seen Scarlet at all.

Much sobbed, running away like he was being chased by demons.

John and Tuck followed him slowly. There was only one place Much went to when he was unhappy.

Gisburne had had the mill burnt down. Everything left after that had been swallowed up by the forest over the past years. Brambles sprouted over charred beams and hazel grew on ruins. Nearby there were two graves.

Much's parents.

Much sat on the unsound jetty in the river. John sat down next to him, the beams groaning under his weight.

For a while the boy and the tall man stared out onto the water. Then Much said in a choked voice, without looking at John: "I didn't believe it when Marion told me. I don't want to believe it now – but I s'ppose I have to." John nodded, stroking Much's head once. Again they were silent for a while, then Much started once more: "Will and Nasir won't be comin' back, will they?"

John shook his head, sighing. "No, lad. They won't come back."

Much asked shyly: "What will you do now?"

"I think I'll go back to Hathersage; have a look if my folks are still there. Perhaps I'll go back to being a shepherd. It's been such along time."

Again Much stared at the water for a while. Then he said: "I don't know where to go. All of my family's dead. I've always been with Robin. I still have a grandfather. He lives at the almshouse in Nottingham. I might go there. I could become a beggar."

John looked at Much inflictively. "What a load of pig's swill you're talking, lad! As long as Tuck and I are alive you'll always have somebody to call family. If you want you can come to Hathersage with me. I should like that!"

The boy looked at John with hope gleaming in his eyes. "Can I really come?" He had always got along best with Little John. When Gisburne had had Much's parents murdered, John had been the only one to find the right words for the boy.

John grinned. "'Course you can come. I'd like that. It won't be that lonely up there then. I reckon Tuck's coming, too. 'Twill be like in the old days then."

To their surprise Tuck refused to come. He didn't plan on leaving the forest. He rather wanted to live as a hermit than leave the place where Robin had lived. What was more, he wanted to be near, in case his little flower needed him. He wanted to stay. When they tried to convince him he made a stubborn face. "I won't ever leave Sherwood, and that's my last word. Somebody has to keep alive what we've done here."

They gave in.

The next day Little John and Much packed their belongings. Saying goodbye to Tuck was short but affectionate. Then they went north. When they left Sherwood, climbing the first hill on their way to the mountains, Much turned and looked around for the last time. "I've never been away from Sherwood. I've always lived there," he said, "first at the mill and then in the forest with… with…" He couldn't go on. John hugged him quietly. Then he turned around again, walking on. Much followed.


End file.
